Discoveries
by Microraptor Glider
Summary: Barry Allen is about to discover abilities he didn't know he had. In fact he didn't have most of them until after getting struck by lightning. As he discovers these abilities he has to decide what to do with them. Basically a drawn out origin story. Still no character tag for Barry.
1. Prologue: Creation

Prestory note: I realized that the prologue could be a little confusing, so I put some edits in for clarification.

**Prologue: Creation**

Barry Allen died.

It was as honorable a death as one could have; he had just saved the multi-verse.

It had been six years since he had started patrolling Central City, almost seven years since the accident which gave him super speed, and two whole years since he had discovered "Earth-2". Going to another world, which strangely resembled some old comics from his own world, was a weird, but otherwise simple experience. Then, he only had two realities to keep track of, and he had thankfully left his nephew and speedster protege, Wally West, behind on the first trip. Getting one's bearings in a new universe and trying to keep track of a hyperactive speedster at the same time is not fun.

Barry discovered this fact this year, after being contacted pleasantly by a being which called itself the Monitor and unpleasantly by one which called itself the Anti-Monitor. Apparently the latter wanted to destroy all realities and the former wanted to stop him. At this point, Barry couldn't leave Wally behind when he visited a new world; he needed all the help he could get.

Wally, unfortunately, had not been with him a moment ago, when Barry had discovered the Anti-Monitor in Earth-2 with a cannon powerful enough to destroy the whole reality. As the entity gloated about his device he had revealed several things. The device drew energy from collisions between matter and anti-matter. Destroying one reality would make the surrounding realities less stable. This would eventually lead to a chain reaction that killed the whole multi-verse. The necessary emissions traveled outward faster than Barry could return them. The comparison to his speed was purely out of the Anti-Monitor's mouth.

Barry had grit his teeth and decided to put that to the test, running circles around the machine so fast that even subatomic particles rebounded to whence they came. Barry had continued gritting his teeth. It was at the edge of his abilities. Barry had begun to feel the speed force, which supplied his abilities tug on him, more and more. It wanted him to come back with it to the extra-dimensional pocket universe where it resided, and it wasn't being nice about it. Barry had felt pieces of himself turn into energy. He appeared to be damaging the cannon, but it was still running. He had to continue. Eventually the cannon was destroyed, but all that was left of Barry was his red uniform made out of compressible microfabrics.

To all who knew him, he died a hero. Other super-powered beings took the Anti-Monitor down, ensuring he never posed a threat to existence again. The device had done enough damage to Earth-2 that it had to merge with Barry's home world in order to ensure the continued survival of its residents, but they were alive and most were thankful to have a new home. A few residents of Earth-2 were glad that the comics based on their exploits had been canceled over two decades before hand and few people remembered the details of their adventures. They could settle in and continue their semi-retired lives.

People would later argue that Barry hadn't actually died. This to some extent was true. As the matter that composed his body transmuted itself into energy, his soul, or the equivalent of it, slid into the speed force. There it would stay for some time, watching the universe from the embodiment of kinetic energy itself. Eventually his soul would return to the material world. In that moment, the speed force would reform his body, remembering it well enough from all the time the speed force had spent connected to it. People would wonder, "If he came back so easily, was he really dead?"

To some extent the claim that Barry Allen hadn't actually died was also a lie. It covered up the years he wasn't there, those who had had to make do without him, and how much had changed in his absence. His nephew, Wally West, had taken up the red suit and protected Central City along its new sister-city Keystone in his uncle's absence. The year's Wally had spent as Barry's sidekick and partner made him the most qualified person for the position, but the transition had been jarring. He was used to fighting the villains of Central City before, but without his mentor it was harder. It was also hallow. Not only was each patrol and each battle a reminder that the original Flash was not there, but he ran through each event in a modified version of his mentors distinctive clothes. Eventually, these feelings would fade. His skills improved, and his heart moved on. But, such is the process of grief.

However, it was a lie on a different level as well because the transition from the material world to the speed force can be traumatic on the soul. Barry may not have completely died, but he had come close. On entering the speed force, Barry Allen's soul fractured, and a piece that wasn't so securely attached to the rest broke off.

Fortunately, the soul's regenerative capabilities are more comparable to the liver than to the brain, even if the latter acts as the body soul interface. When a human looses a portion of its brain, it truly looses something: self-control, the ability to speak, awareness of its surroundings. When a human looses a portion of its liver, it hurts, and the organ cannot do its job as well. The organ however survives, and eventually comes back as powerful as before.

Similarly, though Barry Allen returned whole, he spent a long time recuperating in the speed force. Toward the end of his stay, he managed to make some brief excursions to the material world, and the speed force was generous enough to spit him out in the correct time and place to help Wally in a time of need or to warn him of an incoming danger. But, it took until the third time in for it to stick, and Barry had the distinct feeling that years had passed for him as well as the rest of the world.

Some good came out of the fracturing, though no one ever knew. The small piece of Barry's soul that had broken off flew through the speed force. But, time is more flexible in the Speed force than elsewhere. Eobard Thawne had used this property repeatedly in tormenting Barry Allen while making his home in the twenty-fifth century. The speed force did not even need someone to push at it to mess with time. Often it sucked objects out of one time frame, and occasionally it would return them, always in a different time frame than the first. Maya(n) temples floated in its midst. Modern tanks with decades old rust lay outside the new gem cities, Central City and Keystone. Because of this flexibility, the broken piece of Barry's soul did not fly outward in any particular direction; it flew backwards in time.

It flew past the opening of the Flash Museum. It flew past every time the speed force had helped the Flash apprehend a criminal. In fact, it went so far that it went straight past the creation of the speed force itself and popped out the other side. It skidded to a halt in the middle of Central City infused with energy.

The clouds were pouring their water on the city bellow, occasionally letting out a lightning bolt that hit a sky scraper and shot into the ground. While the storm didn't make the night darker in any noticeably way, and the lightning bolts' flare and the glare produced by raindrops around car lights added to the sense of brightness, the storm added to the city sense of menace typically associated with the dark. Still, people walked the downtown streets umbrellas in hand. Late shifts continued on in stores and restaurants. People came into and out of the city on train, Metrolink to get to the suburbs and Amtrak's high speed rail for longer trips such as to Starling City and Gotham to the East or Metropolis to the West. People drove in their cars through congested city streets or highways.

Well, a congested highway. Most of the highways in and around Central City had some traffic to be sure, but one highway in particular seemed congested to the brim. This particular traffic jam led out of central city past the suburbs towards a building clearly labeled "S.T.A.R. Labs", which lay at the center of a giant figure eight that cut through the surrounding farm land and dwarfed the nearby city. Traffic was actually thinning compared to earlier. Anybody who was going to witness the event had already showed up; everybody on the road was still waiting to figure that out. One could see the vans for the large news stations, CNN, FOX, ect., set up and reporting outside the building. Even some smaller stations such as KSTZ, which was channel 8 in Central City, and WEBG, which was channel 7 in Starling City, had managed to get a spot in the racket.

Amid all this,(look here) the sliver of Barry Allen's soul was confused. Souls are supposed to come in whole packages and recognize when a solid chunk is missing, and, worse, souls in the material world typically have bodies to support them. The sliver, then, suddenly found itself missing a whole lot. Though it had some sense of what was going on, it couldn't observe the world in the way it could before. It had no eyes, ears, nose, or skin. Instead it felt through the speed force, sensing objects through their kinetic energy. It could also feel the rest of Barry Allen's soul, and it longed to be reunited. Unfortunately, it had trouble piecing the two sensory systems together in order to locate the rest of Barry Allen's soul.

The sliver dipped further into confusion. The storm quaked.

The sliver was leaking the speed force's energy already. Some of that energy was going into the clouds, encouraging the built up charge to release in an amazing show of electricity- of moving electrons. Some of that energy started sticking to the fastest object in the vicinity, which just so happened to be some protons approaching relativistic speeds in the figure eight out of town. The protons spun faster. A slight blip appeared on a screen in the S.T.A.R. Labs building, and a scientist raised an eyebrow. They spun faster. More blips appeared, and the scientist jumped out of her chair. "I'm getting dangerous readings. The protons are accelerating beyond how we set the magnetic field to propel them."

Another scientist ran down and looked over the first one's shoulder. "Holy shit." An expression of fear and exasperation washed over the scientist's face. He muttered under his breath, "We'd checked the equipment fifteen times." The scientist lifted his head up. "Fermi-Guy! Didn't you say you checked over this stuff as well?"

A man, whose eyebrow visibly twitched at the nickname, opened his mouth to speak, to explain that everything had matched up in the several times he looked over it but not all the equipment mirrored the facility near Gotham. Fortunately, the head researcher cut him off. "I believe everything had been checked over and verified, but we will check it over again," the head researcher's voice hardened, "once we turn it off." He turned to the press liaison. "Tell the press out best guess is that the Thunder Storm is messing with our equipment."

Everybody carried out their roles. Buttons were pressed. The press liaison left and returned. The scientist looked up from her panel. "I've done what I could to reduce the propulsion while maintaining the magnetic cage around the protons, but…" Everyone turned to look at her. "They won't slow down."

The head researcher and the press liaison looked each other in the high. The head researcher then turned to the rest of the room, "Continue trying to slow it down. I have a press nightmare to take care of." The two people left the room to control the gaggle of half-worried half-excited reporters.

In fact, the particles were speeding up. As they approached light speed, the laws of physics bent around them. This wasn't easily visible in the hollow tube through which the proton accelerated, but it happened. Gravity made a little less sense. The increased speed meant that the protons didn't stay on their predetermined tracks, so they collided before schedule. The resulting collisions created miniature black holes. These were the size of pinpricks even when compared to the size of an atom, so each black hole quickly dissipated as it shot out energy. At the event horizons, gravity met the other three natural forces, and they merged into a new paradigm, which was similar to string theory but also beyond it. In short, things got weird.

Sometimes, in times of dire stress, humans can make brilliant decisions, the immediacy of the situation forcing an intuition not seen before that individual. Most of the time, however, stress makes humans make mistakes, especially when dealing with unknown forces. This is why practice is so important; any mistake that can be made has already been made and corrected. The S.T.A.R. Labs employees had practiced starting up the accelerator before. Many had spent some time at Fermilab by Gotham or the Large Hadron Collider in Europe to gain experience before coming to the facility. After the media started making hype about the safety of particle accelerators, the scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs shook their heads complaining that while Gotham and Europe had problems they related to crime and budgeting respectively, not miniature black holes. But, they had added precautions, double-checked everything, and rehearsed again (and again) anyways.

Unfortunately, none of this practice could prepare the scientists for the speed force, the embodiment of kinetic energy which was not even supposed to exist yet. Lowering the magnetic field which had propelled the proton up to speed would have been a good idea under normal circumstances. The scientists in the control room had even been clever enough to get manipulate the electro-magnetic field so it should slow the particle down. "Should" described circumstances which did not involve the speed force. The action also reduced the magnetic fields which held the protons in the circular paths. The reduction wasn't significant, especially if the protons had been going a hundredth of the speed of light slower. Alas, they went the speed they went and crashed into acceleration track's wall. Well, considering the speed and size of the particles "crash" isn't exactly the technical word. But, for lack of a lecture on sub-atomic structure and quantum mechanics, it is the word to use, especially because of the energies involved. Not enough energy to cause a gigantic explosion, but certainly enough to damage the system that cooled that portion of the tracks. Without the coolant in place, temperatures quickly rose.

Explosions ensued. While a number of STAR Lab employees and visitors would be glad it didn't happen too close to the building, the city as a whole would later bemoan that it happened on the section of the track closest to the metropolitan area.

Fortunately, it was still in farmland, and no lives were lost in the explosion itself, which reached up to the sky in a tower of burning dirt and soybeans. The property damage was minimal.

That calculation on the other hand did not take into the resulting shockwave of speed-force-entangled soul that rocked through the city. A million small unexplainable events occurred, as the miniature black holes continued in its wake. Like in the particle accelerator, the black holes dissipated quickly, but before leaving they bent and stretched space-time, consumed and spat out energy, broke and reformed supposedly immovably laws of physics. The radiation level spiked then lowered before anyone could detect it. For a millisecond, nothing could be taken for granted. This shockwave didn't directly cause any damage either but people would later blame it for the superhuman crime levels that would eventually make it famous.

For most of the city, the preceding events caused panic, then hesitation. Finally, as the citizens realized that the world hadn't ended, relief sat in, burying a seed of worry concerning possible aftershocks.

For the sliver of Barry Allen's soul, the preceding events were a godsend because it managed to pass over a larger piece of soul that felt so right. It wasn't perfect; no soul is. It wasn't even completely the same as the sliver. Years had passed. Sometimes trials had been overcome; sometimes trials had overcome it. All left their mark. But, at the heart of things, the sliver recognized this soul as itself, and it wanted to connect again.

Dispersed over the city by the shockwave, the soul took a moment to coalesce over the lab that Barry Allen stood in. The amount of speed force attached to the sliver was greatly diminished. The electrons still buzzed in anticipation around the sliver, but it wouldn't be long before most dissipated out into the world, speeding things up a little but ultimately getting lost in entropy. It needed to take action soon on both fronts otherwise it might drift and disintegrate through city without the familiar energy to guide it. It also dreaded loosing a connection to the last seven years. The sliver couldn't imagine living without the speed force or the rest of itself.

A memory flickered. "Chemicals." The sliver didn't have the time or even the capacity to do calculations. It was such a small portion of Barry's soul that it could barely remember the chemicals involved. Moreover, without the rest of the soul to ground it, the sliver would only think in hollow circles. It would have to trust itself and the speed force. The sliver sent some of the speed force towards the still chaotic particles flying around the cabinet directly on the opposite side of its target.

Below, Barry Allen pulled a large chain, opening up a skylight. He then turned to the side, still holding the metal links firmly in his hands. Some chemicals were not behaving according to the law of gravity because droplets of color-coded chemicals were rising out of beakers. Barry's mind was so confused that it couldn't even formulate a thought about how odd that was.

The sliver saw its chance. The sky glowed. Barry looked up. Lightning struck.

The lightning bolt tossed Barry into the now floating chemicals. The electricity almost fried Barry's chest. Diluted acids played against Barry's skin, while other chemicals soaked into his bloodstream. Barry's body knocked the metal rack over, and the rack pushed back. Those immediate events knocked the assistant police scientist unconscious.

The sliver had gotten something right though. It was now in Barry Allen's body, and it bonded with the rest of his soul. The connection wasn't perfect, but it would require an event almost as traumatic as death to knock it loose.

Moreover, with the electricity still coursing though Barry Allen's body, turning the variety chemicals coating his skin and leaking into his veins into what the speed force needed was not that hard. A light ran under Barry's cheek as the speed force made its changes. A few small changes in body chemistry and an already strong connection to the speed force through the sliver meant that Barry Allen would generate it with every twitch of his muscles for the rest of his life.

Unfortunately, while the speed force might be used to Barry Allen's body, Barry Allen's body was not used to the speed force. After the electric shock, chemical burns, and collision with a rack full of beakers, the addition of a strange energy was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Barry Allen slipped into a coma.

**A/N: ** So, one of my favorite parts of superhero stories are the origins. Not only do you get some interesting character work with the choice to put one's life on the line for others in a nutty costume, but you also get to see people who will eventually be badass fumbling with their new-found powers. As such, I have decided to revel in the ending of "Three Ghosts" and write my own origin for The Flash, while we are waiting for the pilot to come about. Moreover, "Three Ghosts" left a lot of questions, and I wanted to take as stab at answering some of them. As such, the scene above required me to make a lot of decisions big and small, which I will now explain:

Coma: Ok. This was actually confirmed by the show, but I wrote this before then, so I'll share my reasoning. First, it is not unprecedented, considering the New 52 Barry seemed to be in a coma for a bit after the lightning strike. Second, it would help explain some pieces of timing for the show. The CW only gave the show its own pilot after seeing Gustin's work on the midseason finale, so that lightning strike was already planned. But, it would still have been a decently long time between the midseason finale and episode 20. If the show wanted to show him discovering his abilities, having him wake up the next day would be an odd decision (unless episode 20 was mainly flashbacks).

The time shenanigans: I read on wikipedia that one comic showed Barry Allen turning into the lightning bolt that gave him powers after sacrificing himself for he mutliverse, and I couldn't resist. The show's reference to Eobard Thawne (killer of Barry's mother and resident of the 25th century) also pushed me in this direction. I had to alter it to being a splinter of him because in the comics he ultimately returns from the speed force in the comics. I don't think the show is going to explore this, though, mainly because I don't think it will want to retire the character until quite a few seasons have passed or even hint that they will retire the character.

Moreover, the time shenanigans allowed me to give the speed force the semi-mystical feel I prefer. What the Flashes can do is too far to pretend it falls under conventional physics, and the whole going to the speed force if you die running too quickly just adds to the mysticism. However, I still want the speed force to work with physics (hence only semi-mystical).

The particle accelerator and weird physics: There were several decisions here. I had the speed force cause the explosion rather than the explosion cause the speed force because I honestly don't think particle accelerators are that dangerous. However, the show's producers have hinted that the particle accelerator "cause some problems for Barry", so I figure it will help provide some meta-human adversaries. Hence, I need some weird stuff coming out of that explosion. Miniature black holes are the only dangerous thing I heard about before looking into it, so they had to make an appearance.

Particle accelerator design: Because I don't think there would be so many outcries for a small particle accelerator, I based some details, such as the figure eight design, off Fermilab, which I also referenced. Moreover, if it is going to be a big particle accelerator, it is going to take up space, so it isn't in the center of town.

Geography: This was hard. I ended up using the TV-channel call letters to determine that Starling City is probably east of the Mississippi and Central City is probably to the west. Considering I'm pretty sure Starling has a port and is not in the South, I am going to guess that it is on the east coast. It also has a lot of old-money, so I am going to make it a city with history such as Boston or Philadelphia. Central City on the other hand is most often shown in Missouri or Ohio. Though call letters starting with a k can be found to the east of the Mississippi, I'm going to go with the safer bet of Missouri. However, in either case it would be odd for Barry to casually take the train to Starling from Central. Oh, well. Due to the Dark Knight trilogy, Gotham is and always will be Chicago.


	2. Chapter 1: Healing

**Chapter 1: Healing**

Patty Spivot furrowed her eyebrows at the paperwork. Though it was tedious, she typically worked on it in the mornings while she waited for her daily dose of caffeine to kick in because most of it required little to no mental effort. She flipped through the documents in her laptop and recorded the key figures on the appropriate lines. Sticky notes tacked to the side of her cubicle reminded her of the information she would have to get for the day. The reports from her assistants sat in a small pile to the left of her monitor, so she could easily look them over.

Currently, she had her hand on that pile as she scanned her email, hoping to find the report in question there. Sighing, she gave up there and flipped through the three pieces of paper beneath her hand. Apparently, the assistant had forgotten to turn it in.

Patty got up from her desk and wandered to the next cubicle over. "Julio, have you seen Barry today?"

Julio looked up from his work and shook his head. "No. Is there any particular reason you need him?" His eyebrows furrowed together in curiosity.

"He hasn't given me the analysis I had him do for case one-thirteen, and Captain Frye said he was supposed to be back by yesterday anyways." Patty's eyes narrowed. "I don't want to be down an assistant with all the panic from last night." In addition to the department's normal caseload, there had been three major robberies during the night and a possible suicide. Some people had freaked out after the explosion, jumping to apocalyptic conclusions and had acted desperately. Some of the more hardened criminals had seen a window of opportunity to strike while everybody's attention was elsewhere. Patty wasn't surprised, and while she hoped that things had already cooled down, she knew there was probably more to come.

Julio frowned; this was bad news on two fronts. First, Julio Mendez was Patty Spivot's other assistant. If Barry didn't show up soon, not only would he have to pick up the slack, but Spivot would probably take out her frustration on him. Not that she would be wrathful, but Julio was not looking forward to her being in a bad mood.

The second and more important point was that this was out of character even for Barry. The guy had an unhealthy habit of showing up late, but most often it was some little thing that wasn't his fault. He did eventually show up. Moreover, Barry didn't ever let that get him behind. For the little things, Julio couldn't count the number of times Barry had thanked the inventor of email so he could send a report in before he left for work instead of as soon as he arrived. Whenever Barry did one of his disappearing acts in search of answers, he always made sure to get far enough ahead first, and he never outlasted whatever excuse he had given.

Finally, Julio gave a shrug. "You could try asking Detective West." Everybody in the department knew that Detective Daniel West had taken Barry Allen in early in his life and that the two had grown close.

Patty nodded and walked towards Detective West's nook of the cubicle maze. She probably would have gone straight to Captain Frye, but Julio had a point. From the few interactions she had had with Detective West, she could tell that the man treated Barry like a son. Patty stopped in front of the cubicle and knocked on the carpet-covered construction material that surrounded the office space. "Ahem. Detective West?"

The African-American man inside raised his head and nodded for Patty Spivot to continue.

"I'm missing a report from Barry Allen, and my other assistant, Julio Mendez, said he still hasn't shown up for work." Patty paused. "I was hoping you would know where he is."

Detective West turned his chair around to face the CSI, while his hands clasped together. Patty noticed his lips and eyes narrow in worry. "I received a message from him last night. Said he was driving to the lab because he had missed the chance to see the S.T.A.R. Labs accelerator start up. He should have come in." Detective West shrugged, not knowing what else to say.

Patty's eyes drifted upward in contemplation. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

Julio shared the lab space with Barry, so she'd send him to check if Barry had fallen asleep over his computer. She gritted her teeth together. Her assistants were surprisingly talented, but Julio was easily distracted, while Barry could get spacey. Sometimes they drove her up the wall.

Julio walked down the brick hallway and dodged between officers on his way to the lab. He couldn't tell whether or not he wanted to find Barry slumped over his desk, probably with his board of mystery still uncovered and his computer on. On one hand, he had been trying to convince his friend to get a life for a long while. All too often, Barry crammed himself in his lab devoting himself to work, and things got worse when the anniversary of his mother's death came around last year. Then, Barry stayed in the lab past his shift and researched late into the night. Julio wondered just how much digging one could do into one case because he got the feeling that last year was not unusual.

The fact that Barry was chasing the impossible made his co-worker's obsession all the unhealthier. He wasn't going to hold Barry's belief's against him; everybody had their crazy pieces. Unfortunately, tracking down this yellow blur had consumed Barry's life. Julio had quickly learned not to bring up any unexplained cases in other precincts, and by now he had made the habit of actively hiding them from his coworker.

On the other hand, finding Barry in the lab would at least mean he was safe. Barry's last disappearance had lasted longer than most, which typically had Barry returning quickly after encountering a dead end. Julio quietly laughed. Maybe Barry had finally explained the unexplainable after all, but Julio knew that the chances of that were slim. His coworker's extended leave had bugged him. And, now Barry was supposed to be back in town, but he still hadn't shown up. Barry was late but not that late.

Julio swiped a card through the keypad on the wall outside the lab and opened the door. The room felt damper than usual. Julio pushed the thought aside. The roof leaked anyways.

He glanced towards Barry's nook of the lab. The map of Central City was retracted, and the computer's lights blinked to show it was sleeping and not shut down. But, Barry Allen was not hunched over the computer.

Instead, Julio's gaze shifted as his peripheral vision picked up something wrong. One of the chemical racks lay on the floor. Broken glass littered the area. The puddle on the floor was strangely discolored, and Julio remembered when he and Barry had come up with their color coding system so that they could tell by a glance which dangerous chemicals should not be mixed. The puddle on the floor, however, was larger than Julio guessed was possible. His foot stepped in it as he moved forward, and he was only two steps in to the room.

"Holy shit." On top of this scene, including the wiry metal rack lay his coworker, Barry Allen.

Julio ran over to his coworker and checked his pulse. It was slow but there. Julio felt his facial muscles relax. At least he didn't have to deal with a dead coworker. He shook Barry's shoulders. No response.

Something dripped against Julio's neck. He turned around and noticed a gaping hole in the open skylight. "Don't tell me. The lightning storm last night." A frown creased his face. He shook Barry again. He slapped Barry. No response.

Julio ran back out into the hall, dodging officers. "Detective West!"

The Wests quickly admitted Barry Allen into the hospital, where he was placed into the coma ward. IV tubes delivered the appropriate amounts of nutrients and calories to his bloodstream. Numerous machines monitored his vital signs such as heartbeats and brain activity, and while the Wests hoped for an improvement, the doctors warned that they were lucky the young man was even alive.

Nobody wanted to treat this as normal, but everybody went back to their normal lives nonetheless. Detective West found himself distracted in the department's growing workload. Patty Spivot pushed Julio harder, which only reminded him that he no longer had a co-worker with him to share the burden. Iris, Daniel West's youngest child, missed Barry's company but threw herself into her studies. Somehow, though, she found herself coming back to her house from the dorm more often to speak with her father.

Two days after Barry's body was discovered rumors started floating around the Central City Police Department. It started with Captain Frye not only pardoning Barry Allen's disappearances but leaking out that if the assistant CSI ever recovered, the word assistant would be dropped. It was just a rumor, one that Captain Frye flatly denied. It didn't keep people from talking though. A few days later the rumor grew. Apparently, someone high up in Queen Consolidated from Starling City had called Captain Frye to see how the assistant CSI was doing and thank him for his work in Starling. A few of the rumors even stated that the employee in question was the CEO, Oliver Queen, but few believed those versions. Those stories were only the ones people repeated just because they were so ludicrous.

Still, as the rumor mill drew attention to Barry, the rumors branched out. Some scrutinized his previous disappearances. None of these were too nasty but they weren't that flattering either. Detective West eventually talked to Julio to make sure the kid didn't mention too much about the murder of Barry's mother, Nora. Fortunately, the assistant CSI said he'd never mention it. Barry didn't deserve to be judged based on his crazy side apparently.

Two months passed. The rumors subsided. Meanwhile, Iris had developed a schedule of visiting Barry every week on Friday after her course on neural plasticity. She'd talk to him, tell him how her week was going.

One day somebody she didn't recognize had shown up before her.

The other guest was a woman. She was a blonde, and from the hue of her lip gloss and accessories Iris guessed that the other woman's favorite color was pink. Neither of these things were to say she looked like a bimbo. The woman's bright accessories made her stand out, but she didn't seem to want to hog attention; she held herself too awkwardly for that. Though the accessories were an unusual color, they were also oddly professional and reserved. Iris didn't know what to think about her.

Iris stood beside her. "Hi. You visiting Barry?"

"Yeah," the woman nodded. She held out her hand. "My name if Felicity. My last name is Smoak, but most people don't call me by that." She gave a small laugh. "I mean, I'm Felicity. Hi."

Iris smiled and shook the hand. "I'm Iris West, but you can call me Iris." The women released each other's hands and looked back at the comatose young man. Iris rolled her lips. "So, I didn't know Barry had a girlfriend." Iris paled. She had meant to say, 'So, how do you know Barry?' but apparently her brain had overridden her mouth. First, she had no idea where the sentence came from. Second, she was going for a Masters in psych; she was supposed to know her mind better than that. Well, technically psychology had thought her that one never truly knows all the secrets of one's own mind, but that was beside the point.

The woman's, Felicity's, eyebrows raised and her moth formed a small 'o'. "I'm not his girlfriend. I mean, I went to the company gala with him, but we're not officially dating." There was a short pause as Felicity looked down. "He thinks I like someone else anyways. He offered to go on an official date at some point, but he made it obvious he thinks I belong with someone else." Apparently Felicity had a tendency to ramble.

Though she couldn't figure out why, some part of Iris relaxed. She tried to make her smile reassuring. "You are pretty." Iris let that hover in the air and sink in. "You seem very nice too, coming to visit him. And, do you know what? I bet you're smart." Felicity looked up, and Iris locked eyes. "Barry likes smart girls."

Felicity laughed. "Oh, does he now? And, how would you know, if may I ask?"

Iris's smile turned devious. "We're like siblings. It's my duty to know."

The two returned to silence, though it was far more comfortable than the previous one. Each woman stood there looking at the comatose young man. Several moments passed. Iris pondered on Barry's love life. He could be so observant and so unobservant at the same exact time. Perhaps there was another man Felicity liked, but he obviously had missed the feelings Felicity had for him.

Finally, the silence had dragged on long enough. "You mentioned a company gala. Where exactly do you work?"

"Queen Consolidated. I'm Oliver Queen's secretary." Felicity continued speaking, but it was all a mumble. Something about the IT department.

Queen Consolidated was in Starling City, the last place to which Barry had disappeared according to her dad. A frown subconsciously worked its way onto Iris's face. "I thought he went to Starling city to solve one of his… mysteries."

"Oh, no! That's how we met." A look of worry darted onto Felicity's face. Iris raised an eyebrow. Felicity nodded in the way that perfectly expressed 'I get it' and continued the story. "A guy, who had been on super-steroids or something, robbed one of our warehouses and carried off an industrial-sized piece of equipment single handedly. Oliver and I went down personally to talk with the officers because the robbery was so weird and all. That's where Barry showed up. He really helped us find the guy responsible."

Suddenly, pieces clicked together, and Iris burst out laughing. "So the rumors are true, then."

Felicity froze. She blinked several times. "What rumors?"

"Dad says the department has been buzzing that the captain received an email from Queen Consolidated praising his work on a recent case." Iris continued laughing then stopped for a moment. "You mean Barry got to meet Oliver Queen?" Oliver had had his fifteen minutes of fame after he had come back from the dead, but Iris had mainly heard about the Queen family because of the trial. It didn't really matter from where she had heard about him though. Oliver Queen was now a minor celebrity.

"Yeah," Felicity shrugged. "I didn't realize people would make such a big fuss about the email I made Oliver write."

"Don't worry. From what I could tell, it's considered one of the wackier stories floating around the fishbowl. Not that I would know. My dad's the detective, not me." Iris gave a small huff. "Plus, he's probably super receptive to rumors regarding Barry. Dad got really protective of him since dad took him in."

Felicity's eyebrow's perked. "Where do you work exactly?"

"Well, I'm not working yet outside of interning and being a teacher's assistant." Iris threw on a goofy smile, while she swooshed a thumbs-up through the air in a cartoony gesture. "I'm just pushing my way through grad school. Hoping to get a degree in Psychology."

A thoughtful then reflective look passed over Felicity's features. Suddenly a twinkle appeared in her eye. "Sounds pretty smart."

"Barry says so, but I think he's just trying to encourage me," Iris responded, not knowing what else to say. She didn't want to come out and ask the other woman what she was thinking.

"I bet you really are smart, and he's not just saying it," Felicity said, continuing to smile like she knew too much. She checked her watch. "I was here for a while before you arrived, so I'll be heading off now. It'll give you some alone time with him." With that the girl with the pink accessories from Queen Consolidated left.

As the month's progressed the doctors told the West family that while Barry Allen was recovering remarkably quickly there was still no guarantee that he would ever wake up again. These doctors did not take into account the will of the speed force: it wanted him to move.

It would be too much to characterize the speed force as having concrete thoughts. It didn't have a mind per say, and one shouldn't anthropomorphize extra-dimensional sources of energy. However, the speed force and similar entities are not entirely without feelings. The Red and the Green for example want to preserve the animal and plant life of Earth. Similarly, the speed force wanted to move. Each of these probably had slightly more nuance to their wishes, but interpreting each too closely would lead down a path of folly.

As such, the speed force couldn't allow its conduit to stay in a coma forever. How infuriating would that be.

Unfortunately, the speed force could only do so much. For one, so little of it existed. Very little of the speed force had come through with the soul sliver, and most of what had made it had dissipated. There was no extra-dimensional pocket to hold it at that point. For comparison, if the speed force that would develop was an ocean, the amount to which Barry Allen currently had access was a teaspoon. While that typically wasn't that bad for the speed force, Barry could only move involuntary muscles such as the heart and diaphragm. With the intravenous tubes delivering nutrients into Barry's bloodstream, his digestive system and therefore the corresponding muscle linings had shut down. The speed force replenished itself very slowly.

Moreover, the speed force could only do one thing: make things go faster. This would typically be great for protecting its conduit, but the damage was extensive and worse delicate. If the speed force pushed too hard, something might heal incorrectly, dooming the conduit to sleep until the family finally pulled the plug.

These two conditions together forced the speed force to hold back.

But, help it did. Nutrients reached the necessary areas quicker than usual. Cells divided and grew sometimes twice as fast, replacing those that were damaged or dead or dying. The lingering traces of the chemicals worked their way out of his system faster. Barry's body fought to keep up.

For all of these little miracles the speed force worked, it left only one sign visible to the hospital staff. Barry Allen's heart rate was always elevated for a comatose patient, even though his brain activity remained below normal. It became a guessing game that spread from the hospital's coma department outward about what exactly was causing it. Numerous theories developed and those that gained significant traction went to the West family for testing approval. None panned out. The only hint Barry's body gave on the tests were some chemicals that should have filtered out of his body at least a month prior to the test, but no one could connect those chemicals to an elevated heart rate. In the end, people started assuming that the chemicals were somehow forcing his heart to work harder for the same effect because no better explanation presented itself. The mystery remained.

In the first weeks of October 2014, Barry's heart rate increased further. His brainwave activity spiked. An hour later he opened his eyes.

**A/N:** So this time, I have less that I have to justify. Patty Spivot is Barry's Girlfriend in what I've been able to read of the new 52, and I wanted his superior to be someone from the comics. Julio Mendez is from the 1990s TV show. I figured Barry would need somebody on his level to talk with at work. Detective West's and Iris West's descriptions came from internet rumors of casting descriptions.

I had that whole scene with Iris and Felicity because I thought it would be cute and I wanted to get Iris more airtime. Plus, after the episode mentioned Felicity visiting Central City for days at a time, it made sense that it would happen.

Regarding my shipping choices, Iris is great, but until the Flash comes out she hasn't proven herself one way or the other, so I want to keep her an option (she is his destined love in the comics). On the other hand, Barry has shown obvious chemistry with Felicity, and I do ship them (Smoak and Flash, Smash, Farry, Barricity… whatever you call it). Hence, I might play up both as possible shipping options without deciding between them.

My choice for October is to coincide with when the pilot will probably by airing on the CW. Even if they release the pilot earlier as a tease, I assume this will be the canon in universe date to reduce the time in between that and the events of subsequent episodes.

Probably the harder thing about the chapter was avoiding mentioning the X-files. One time I was trying to describe Fox Mulder and his motivations, and then I realized that I had shown the other person "The Scientist", so I drew an analogy with Barry. Why didn't I want to mention the X-files? Well, I was thinking of writing a crossover with the X-files and wasn't sure if I wanted it to be in the same universe as this or not, so I needed to keep my options open.

By the way, I did post some edits to the prologue if you haven't seen them.


	3. Chapter 2: Metabolism

Sorry for not getting this chapter out earlier. I actually had most of it prepared, and then my schedule got ridiculously busy. Add on the fact that I had an idea on how to change it chapter, and I never got around to fixing the chapter on my end let alone sending it to my beta. In the future if the change is small enough I might just send it to my beta early and make the change as I publish the chapter after that.

I was planning to aim for posting every two weeks, but considering I did not post at all this past month, I am not going to make any promises. However, I hope to get the next few chapters out quicker in compensation for the hiatus.

And, now on to the main event…

**Chapter 2: Metabolism**

Barry felt like he was drifting. In a few ways, it was like drifting out of a dream. He couldn't quite remember how he fell asleep and he was too comfortable to care. Later, once he actually felt like thinking, Barry would compare it to a Saturday morning, when one has gotten enough sleep but still doesn't want to get out of bed. Considering what he would learn of his situation it seemed an apt analogy.

The feeling also mirrored the more physical interpretation of drifting. When one wakes up from a dream, one feels the bed and pillow beneath you and the sheets above. If one happens to have a particularly comfortable bed set, this is part of the reason one doesn't want to get up. However, Barry did not feel that or even some of the more surprising but plausible feelings one could have such as the stiffness, rigidity, and ache that accompanied falling asleep at a desk. There was a slight sensation along his skin, but his brain was too muddled to understand it. He was detached from the solid physical world. Drifting.

After a while, habit kicked in and he attempted to adjust himself in what he hoped was his bed. He had fought against daylight too often for the fact that he wasn't even physically uncomfortable, or physically anything for that matter to actually influence him. Unfortunately, his body didn't seem to respond. That was somehow more disconcerting than the fact he couldn't feel or hear anything.

Wait. Barry could feel a slight movement; his head moved a couple degrees. It wasn't much, but it was a sign. An eternity passed.

The mental fog began to clear. Barry decided that he should actually wake up. He didn't feel tired, and without a comfortable bed there was no point in pretending to be asleep. The "without a comfortable bed" point was making itself especially present as feeling returned from his limbs. Fortunately, he had not fallen asleep on a desk. Unfortunately, he did not remember his bed being this stiff, and he felt several cricks and knots start calling for his attention. He could hear a beeping, though it still seemed far off. Another feeling lingered at the back of his consciousness, but Barry's intuition said that it wasn't going to be pleasant either. He let it linger.

Now, that Barry had decided to actually think, he let the memories from the last few days trickle back in. He had come back from the case in Starling City, where he had a chance to meet and help the Hood, or was it now the Arrow? Either way Barry made a note to continue the mental celebration once he had more energy. He had traveled to S.T.A.R. Labs only to miss the cutoff to see the particle accelerator open in person. Disappointment pulsed through his head thrice. He had really been looking forward to Central City getting its own entry into particle physics. Then, Barry remembered how sad it was that he was no longer surprised at his own lateness. Maybe if he stopped trying so desperately to be on time, he actually would be just that in a weird corollary of Murphy's Law. Finally, Barry remembered Linda Park's announcement and the explosion he saw from his lab in the downtown police station.

The events that proceeded didn't trickle in. Instead they slammed against Barry like a tsunami. The lights going out, the floating chemicals, and the final lightning strike entered Barry Allen's brain all at once. If he had not been so sluggish, Barry would have jumped out of bed right then and there. Still, with the memories came a flood of sensation throughout his body. All the cricks that had asked for his attention earlier suddenly stopped asking politely. The beeping, which earlier was a pleasant reminder that he could actually hear, became loud and obnoxious. Barry's eyes snapped open.

He was confronted with an amazing amount of white in comparison to the total blackness he had seen before. White walls, floors, and ceilings surrounded him. White sheets and clothes he didn't recognize covered him. As Barry looked around, the only dashes of color he could find were the scrubs of what he assumed were nurses and doctors working around him and the readouts of the various machines which were attached to him.

Unfortunately, whatever thoughts Barry had had about the lightning strike or the hospital setting found themselves pushed to the side as the feeling which had previously only lingered at the back of Barry's mind rushed forward. At full intensity, he could finally identify it: hunger. Or at this level, Barry was inclined to ignore those who would call him melodramatic and label it starvation. He wondered why his stomach wasn't growling loud enough for the whole city to hear or, for that matter, at all.

Barry opened his mouth to beg for food or, as he would later put it, notify the doctors of the situation. That is when he discovered his mouth was dry; what started out as words in his head turned into hacking noises.

Somebody who Barry assumed was a nurse ran off and returned with water. She didn't hand it over. The oldest of the medical staff started speaking. "Mr. Allen, you have been in a coma for ten months. In that time we have provided your body nutrients through IV, so your digestive system has shut down. Sip. Try not to swallow too much."

Barry wanted to scream at the man that he obviously hadn't put enough nutrients in the solution, but he had to satisfy himself with glaring. The man kept a straight face but took a step backwards as the nurse handed Barry the cup. Barry took a second to redirect his anger at the paper and water in his hand before taking a sip. It felt marvelous against his tongue and somewhat sweet. He glanced back at the older man in confusion. "It's sugar water to re-habituate your stomach to glucose." Barry let the water slide down his throat.

At first, nothing. Then, his stomach lurched.

Barry's eyes bulged, and he threw his torso forward before collapsing back on the bed. Waves of nausea radiated out from his abdomen.

"You're lucky your stomach doesn't have anything in it for you to throw up." Barry resumed his glare. He didn't feel lucky. The older man's face softened. "You're lucky to be alive at all, and your recovery so far has been miraculous. You survived not only a lightning strike but also severe chemical burns." The man's face hardened again. "Don't push yourself."

Barry shrugged, taking a deep breath. His throat didn't feel normal by far, but it felt better. He carefully formed the words in his brain and then his mouth. "When can I eat?" It took him forever to speak, and he still sounded hoarser than he believed possible.

The old man's eyebrows pushed together. He stood still for a moment, before hesitantly replying, "Take a sip every half-hour for the rest of the day, then we will see. Remember: only sip." The older man and the nurse quickly left the ward.

Barry pushed his head into the hospital pillow. Well, that was a strange experience. Though Barry couldn't say he had any previous experience with being comatose personally or otherwise, the coma bit wasn't all that surprising. While most people walk away from getting struck by lightning, they still dealt with consequences. Thinking back to the chemicals on the rack, Barry knew that they weren't harmless either. In fact, Barry and Julio had labeled a number of them precisely because they shouldn't be mixed. Barry assumed that after being thrown in that direction by the lightning bolt the "definition of dangerous" mixture had covered him. How was he even currently awake?

But, the coma itself wasn't the strange experience. In fact, it was more of a non-experience. But, waking up from a coma and being told he was missing almost a year of his life were experiences he would never forget. Having a stomach and a tongue at war… Barry glanced around the room looking for a clock… for an entire afternoon and evening, he would remember that for the rest of his life.

Barry's stomach finally stopped complaining with each sip at six PM, though he did not dare drink more than the doctor recommended, even if his stomach had started growling. At three he had finally given into temptation and had let more than a sip slide into his mouth. It still wasn't much, weighing in at approximately four sips at most. But, it was enough and had made Barry fight to keep it in his stomach all through the next half hour. The cup sat on the side table untouched then.

Barry had trouble getting to sleep that night. His body still felt like he needed it, and throughout the night he slipped in and out of consciousness. Twice he had to take a sip a little late because he suddenly found his eyes blinking open to discover that it was five minutes past the half hour. Unfortunately, whenever he got close to entering a deeper sleep, his hunger would gnaw at the back of his mind, pushing him awake. The hours dragged on until at two in the morning, he finally fell truly and fully asleep.

The next morning, the older man, Dr. Engels, arrived shortly after Barry woke up asked how he was doing. He spoke slower than he had the previous night. Barry shrugged. "Hungry, but other than that fine." He hadn't meant for it to come off so sarcastic, but he didn't feel bad about it either. Barry's stomach growled, and he cringed.

"Sounds like your stomach's awake." Dr. Engels gave a small laugh. "If you didn't feel nauseous last time you took a sip, try drinking the rest of the sugar water," Dr. Engels gestured towards the paper cup.

Barry's hand darted out to the cup and quickly put it to his lips, chugging down what was left over. Again, the sweetness ran over his tongue like a symphony. However, while the sensation in his stomach was not entirely pleasant, it wasn't entirely bad either. He could ignore it. After finishing off the cup, which was not that big anyways, Barry took a deep breath. "Thanks."

Dr. Engels smiled. "I was starting to worry that I'd have to tell you that you couldn't have breakfast, and then you'd bite _my_ head off." He gave a beckoning gesture towards the hallway. Somebody entered with a tray full of breakfast options including but not limited to several cereals, a bowl of fruit, a bagel, and a scone. It didn't look like the highest quality food on the market, but it was food, so Barry wouldn't complain. "There's probably more than you can eat, but continue until you are full."

Barry furrowed his eyebrows at the doctor, while he peeled a banana. "You want to see how much I will eat?"

"Your case is not exactly normal," Dr. Engels nodded. "We double checked the IV bags we had been giving you. They should have provided more than enough nutrients for you, especially considering your body was almost completely shut down for the first four months." The doctor frowned. "I'm partly worried that you've lost the ability to feel full, and that this is all a trick of your brain chemistry. But, to tell the truth, I have no idea why you are hungry. Let's hope I'm wrong."

It took a moment for the idea to sink in. Barry stopped chewing for a moment. The idea of feeling like this constantly did not sit well with him. Still, Barry mused, the only way to find out whether he could get full was to eat, so he resumed eating. Finishing the banana, Barry moved to one of the cereals. It contained more sugar than he typically would have chosen, but right now it sounded like a good choice. He ate through that and moved to the bagel. In the end, Barry did not finish off all the food in front of him, but he consumed more than he would have during a normal breakfast or for that matter five breakfasts. "I'm full."

He glanced at Dr. Engels, who had wide eyes and an open mouth. The words "How are you not sick?" drifted out of the doctor's mouth. Barry fidgeted, carrying the same exact question. The doctor straightened. "I want to keep you here for a couple days under observation. If you notice anything else strange, don't hesitate to tell me.

At that moment Barry decided not to ask why the doctor was talking so slowly. Other than the fact that he managed to eat more than he thought possible, Barry now felt fine, and he didn't want to do anything to attract Dr. Engel's medical eye more than he already had. Staying at the hospital longer than necessary was not on Barry's wish list. He wanted to get back to work or at least do something. Some part of him also just wanted to move and have the freedom to move where he pleased. Instead Barry asked, "Do you know if I'll get any visitors today. If I have another day staring at the wall, I'll go insane."

"Well, your family has been informed, and you received plenty of visitors while you were in a coma. I bet some of them will be rushing over to see you."

Barry blinked. "By family do you mean the Wests or the Allens?"

"I believe both." Dr. Engels started to leave.

As the doctor approached the door, Barry yelled out, "Sorry for earlier." He paused. "I wasn't exactly thinking straight."

Looking at what little food remained, the doctor laughed. "I'd imagine."

**A/N:** This chapter served three roles. One, Barry had to wake up from the coma at some point and I felt that would be a scene to see. Second, I needed to give Barry a reason not to spill the beans before he goes vigilante-ing. I mean once he knows that he will be making enemies, he has a perfectly clear reason to keep his powers under wraps, but until then what's to stop him from telling anybody? Third, Barry is kind of skinny, and though it typically is Wally that gets the speedster metabolism, I want to see everyone's expression when he eats so much. More of that will be occurring in later chapters as well

The medical field is not my area of expertise, so if you notice an inaccuracy don't hesitate in telling me. I may or may not make the change, but I at least want to know if and where I am being ridiculous.


	4. Chapter 3: Perception I

I am back! From now on, you can check my profile to see where I am with my stories. This time I swear it was technical difficulties that caused things.

And, on with the story...

**Chapter 3: Perception I**

Before any visitors had a chance to arrive, Dr. Engels talked with Barry in order to judge whether his brain had complete recovered yet or not; apparently it was a part of some consciousness test to see if somebody can hold a conversation.

Barry's thoughts got lost once, but he managed to pull himself back together. In the end, he didn't do too badly. At least not as badly as the first time he'd woken up. Considering he didn't remember waking up, Barry could believe that he'd been pretty out of it. After that piece of information, Barry didn't find it entirely surprising that the Wests would be eagerly coming over. The hospital had notified them earlier, but they were also told to wait until they determined whether he had any lasting brain damage. The hospitals wanted the Wests to know what they were getting into before letting them visit.

After the test, the hospital staff moved Barry out of the coma ward into a new room, which was not single. Well, his previous room had three other patients, but because they were not just asleep but comatose, Barry had been able to ignore their presence. Not that his new roommate was obtrusive or anything; he was just there.

That, and he was hogging the TV, keeping it on sports channels. When Barry had asked him to change it to some more intellectually stimulating program such as the science channel or, god forbid, the news, the other man looked at him with an expression that clearly read, "How could you not like sports? What's wrong with you?" Barry decided not to push it. He wouldn't be so bothered, if he had anything else to do. Eventually he called the hospital staff, and asked if they could scrounge up something.

The hospital left him some magazines with which to entertain himself until his first visitor arrived. The magazines were nothing special; Barry figured the hospital staff had scrounged the various waiting rooms to provide him with some entertainment. They didn't even have a copy of Scientific American in the batch, and there were now ten different issues which he hadn't read. Barry would have to remind Iris or Daniel West to bring him some issues of that and Science Showcase to their next visit. Still, however inadequate hospital's selection was, they did give Barry something to do to pass the time, which was better than could be said for yesterday.

Even alternating between the pile and the television, Barry found himself going through the magazines quicker than he expected. He'd finish reading one magazine's articles and expect half an hour to have passed, but when he glanced up he discovered it was only fifteen minutes later. He had been trying to drag each magazine out and read especially slowly. Perhaps reading slowly is impossible when the material is as superficial as what this particular actor or actress was wearing.

Fortunately, the Wests, or at least Iris and Daniel, arrived before he finished the pile. He wasn't surprised that Daniel's wife hadn't shown up. She had never been mean, but they had never been close. She hadn't been looking for a new child, especially a child picked up from one of her husband's cases. Barry didn't mind though. He hadn't been looking for a new mother.

Daniel wore his civilian clothes, which were still rather formal, while Iris wore a pair of slacks and a blouse. Iris held her hands behind her back. She looked a little nervous. "I hope you're feeling ok enough to see us."

Barry laughed. "The only reason they have all these machines hooked up to me is because apparently the first thing you are supposed to do when you wake up from coma isn't ask for food, especially if they are feeding you through IV tubes." Seeing the worried look on his visitors' faces, Barry tried to give a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I don't feel bad at all. The hunger's creeping in again, but it's barely there now. I'm fine."

Iris's lips rolled in. "Are you going to get out anytime soon?"

Barry let out a sigh. "They want to keep me under observation for a few days to see if anything else pops up, and I'll have to be doing some physical therapy to get my muscles used to moving again." The smallest of relieved smiles graced his lips. "That won't take very long though. I was only out for a year. People have come back from longer comas." His visitors didn't look completely convinced, but what else could he say? He wasn't going to deny the incident after he woke up.

Iris nervously shifted her weight. "It was still a long time."

Barry could feel a sudden silence between Iris and Daniel. It hadn't truly sunk in how hard it must have been for them waiting for him to wake up.

Suddenly a question occurred to him. "It's kind of weird asking you guys this, but did you ever consider pulling the plug? I wouldn't hold it against you either way. It just feels like something I should know." Barry wasn't even sure what he wanted them to say. On one hand, he was alive and glad to be so, but on the other hand, he could sympathize with the reasoning behind not wanting to live only through the aid of machines. Moreover, he hadn't given the question much thought before going into a coma, so the Wests, who were legally his family, would have had to make the decision themselves.

Daniel sighed, "Son, I understand, but that is a question for another time." A weight settled over the older man's shoulders, which visibly dropped. His face settled downwards.

"No, dad," Iris said flatly. "He deserves to know."

Daniel shot his daughter a short glare and shrugged. He didn't disagree with Barry's right to know that information. But, not knowing when, and for the longest time even if, Barry would wake up had been hard enough. The pieces of hope that had been laid out for them only made things harder at times. At this point he just wanted everybody to focus on and appreciate the fact that Barry was awake.

Iris didn't pay attention to the reprimand, though. She turned to Barry and explained, "For two whole months, you made close to no progress. Another two weeks in, and doctors started to drop hints that we should consider cutting you off life support. They didn't say it outright but the message was made." She took a deep breath. "For a whole week, the family debated. Most of us decided that you wouldn't want to live like that; it wasn't life. But…" Iris paused. The words lingered in her mouth and refused to leave.

Daniel filled it in. "We didn't want to be the ones to sign off on your death warrant."

Iris gave the smallest of nods and continued. "And, then just as we were about to work up the resolve to do it, you started getting better. Barely. In the smallest of steps. But, it was there, and it was steady. So, we couldn't; we had hope."

Barry glanced down then back into Iris's eyes. "That was the only time?"

"The only time the talks got that far," Daniel nodded.

Iris cringed. "The thought was always there like a dark cloud, especially during that week in the middle of the summer. You started plateau-ing. Physically you had recovered, but your brain still wasn't doing much then." She shook her head. "It wasn't as bad, though."

Barry sat there for a moment. He took a deep breath and nodded. What was he supposed to say? He didn't know how he felt about the situation. How could he comfort them for what they went through? What did they want him to say? Finally he decided to open his mouth. "Well, I'm alive now, and I'm fairly certain I'm all right. You don't need to worry over me anymore. Thanks for worrying when you did." It wasn't perfect, but at least it was something.

The family stood in silence. It wasn't the most pleasant of silences; nothing could be after the previous conversation. At the same time, it wasn't the most uncomfortable of silences either. Every sentence tasted awkward in the mouth after everyone had swallowed a thought so heavy.

Finally Daniel decided to speak. He was always the least comfortable with silence. "Considering you will be here a while it's a good thing we brought gifts then. I was worrying you would be getting up and not needing them." Iris took a bag out from behind her back and set it on the table next to Barry. Her movements were still tense, but Barry could see her slowly relaxing. "Look inside."

Glancing in, Barry immediately noticed a couple books. Smiling he reached in and carefully took them out. Barry's smile only grew. The bag contained _Heretics of Dune_ by Frank Herbert, _Foundation_ by Isaac Asimov, and _The Farthest Shore_ by Ursula K. Le Guin. Books he had been meaning to get around to for ages but never did because of his busy work schedule.

But, those were only the books. Unnoticed at first glance because of their thinness, two comics lined the bottom of the bag. One was an old issue of Green Lantern, while the other was a Flash comic. Barry smiled.

If pressured, Barry would admit that the helmet and lantern were goofy. A little more pressure would reveal that sometimes the two series revealed their ages in less than flattering ways; AC Entertainment had stopped printing them part way through the eighties. However, no one could make Barry deny that he was a long time fan of both. While everybody knew that Peter Parker is Spider-Man and that Steve Rogers is Captain America, Barry knew very few people who could say that Jay Garrick and Alan Scott were the Flash and Green Lantern respectively and could also go on about their personal and heroic lives.

Barry did not read the series, though, because he was trying to be hipster. During middle school he had stumbled into an old comic shop, and the owner had shown him some of the old series including Green Lantern. He'd gotten hooked on the hero's mystical adventures. He couldn't read it as often as he could the current series because the issues were getting more expensive and harder to find, but he always saved up some of his money specifically for a Green Lantern issue.

Two years after picking up the Green Lantern series, Barry stumbled across an issue where the titular teamed up with the Flash. Barry was instantly hooked. Here was somebody, albeit a fictional somebody, who specialized in super-speed but, unlike his mother's killer, used his powers for good. Of course, after all the criticism he received for saying the truth about what happened, Barry didn't give that reason for his sudden interest when explaining it to his friends. His family quickly caught on, however, and had reactions that ranged from frustration to support.

Barry kept holding the Flash comic, still in its plastic sleeve. "Thank You."

"We thought you'd have some time to enjoy the classics of the genres you've decided to call home," Iris shrugged. Barry knew she had mysteries as her novel of choice, but she'd also kept track of his reading list around gift giving time, even if she didn't personally want to read the books.

Daniel West gave out a hearty laugh. "That and you've missed Christmas and your birthday, so we had to get you something."

"Oh, and something else," Iris picked up another bag. Unlike the first bag, which could easily have come from Barnes & Noble, this one was more of a cross between a backpack and a purse. It was functional and could hold a decent amount of stuff, but it also was somewhat decorative and worn over only one shoulder. "On the way here we stopped by your apartment and grabbed your laptop, your cell phone, chargers, ect. The essentials." She handed the bag over. "You can't keep the case. I usually keep my notebooks in there."

"Finally! A connection with the outside world," Barry halfway joked, while retrieving his electronics.

Daniel West raised an eyebrow at Barry with a mock expression of seriousness. "See. That spare key I had you give us came in handy after all."

The conversation continued onward from there. How was the rest of the family doing? Did you know Wally insisted on visiting you when his family came to visit over the summer? He's in high school now. Your dad missed your annual visit. Iris and Daniel informed him about the small but important pieces of information regarding the group of people Barry had eventually considered a second family. They were still second to those that had raised him until he was eleven, and the extended biological family he rarely saw. But, while it wasn't the biological family's fault for being absent, the Wests had actually been there through middle and high school.

Eventually, because both Daniel and Barry shared the same workplace, the topic of conversation eventually drifted there. Daniel started towards it first. "Have you heard about all these unexplained cases that popped up since the incident at S.T.A.R. Labs?" Iris's eyebrows knit together.

Barry shook his head in confusion. "No. The TV has been on ESPN all day, and I doubt any of these mentioned it." Barry picked up a couple of the magazines. "The nurses and doctors don't really have a reason to tell me, but then again for all I know the Lower East Side could have burnt to the ground after the particle accelerator explosion." The only reason Barry knew that neither World War Three nor the zombie apocalypse had struck while he was asleep was that he really hoped people would be a little less worried about the home football team and what dress Scarlet Johansson was wearing in those circumstances.

Daniel laughed. "Well, they wouldn't know just how weird these cases are anyways, though some of it does get to the media." The smile that always accompanied a good story was creeping onto Daniel's face, "Some of these cases have had the department stumped for months."

Daniel paused, obviously trying to build suspense. When Iris didn't chime in with her quip, Barry hesitantly provided it himself. "We're lucky Iris isn't a reporter." Numerous times Iris had used this to make her father notice that he was accidentally providing information the department hadn't cleared for the public yet. Often Daniel would just get carried away telling an interesting thing that happened at work. Fortunately, the family had also been trained since a young age not to repeat their father's stories to their friends.

"Anything I'm going to tell you Iris has probably already heard."

Daniel was doing one of his storytelling pauses, which lasted just a little longer than normal breaks in conversation, when Iris interrupted, "Dad, can we just not?"

Daniel's eyes widened and his eyebrows rose. "I have mentioned all of these during our weekly phone conversations. I swear.

Iris's eyes narrowed. "This isn't about that. These won't just be unexplained cases for Barry, and you know it." Iris made a sweeping gesture towards the bed where Barry lay. "It's just going to encourage it." She purposefully looked at the two men in front of her. "Fine, you're going to talk about it anyway, but I don't want to be there for it, pretending like I approve." She looked Barry in the eye. "I'm sorry." Iris left the room.

Barry had heard that "I'm sorry" a million times before. I'm sorry your mother died. I'm sorry your father killed her. I'm sorry you can't move on. I'm sorry you were in shock and invented a crazy story. Iris was not always apologizing for something, but when Nora Allen's death or investigations into the unexplainable came up, it always seemed like she was. Barry really couldn't blame her; he probably did sound pretty crazy. But, the statements always hurt, and suddenly it would feel like a brick wall had landed between him and her. He didn't like it.

Daniel stood there, a little put off. His eyes hardened and looked somewhere in the distance. Barry had watched Daniel and Iris disagree over him before. Iris couldn't believe his story and accepted that his father must have committed the crime. She couldn't see why he couldn't accept it as well. While Daniel didn't quite believe Barry's story, he thought there was some kernel of truth at the heart of it. Not all of the evidence had completely added up in his opinion, and the kid had seen a blur attack his mother. Somebody else had been in the house. Daniel was willing to respect that.

After the awkward silence had dragged a bit too long, Barry decided he had to say something. "What exactly were these cases?"

Daniel sighed. It wasn't the same story it had been before. "The most recent one involves a series of arsons. The buildings are going up so quickly, we think that there must be something high powered behind it like explosives, but no one can find the trace substances something that big would require."

Barry gave it a moment thought then shrugged. "Couldn't the arsonist have used a flamethrower or a similar device? Because the flammable substances are contained inside the device, CSIs wouldn't find any at the crime scene. Plus, those are more likely to use gases anyways, so even if something was left behind, it would be fairly dispersed by the time any CSIs arrived. Not that they would make a habit of taking air samples anyways."

"The people assigned to the case don't think so," Daniel answered shaking his head. "Apparently, the buildings are just going up too quickly. If somebody was starting the fires with a handheld device, they'd be caught in the blast. Nobody would be able to get away without serious burns since we discovered that it would a bad idea to make suits out of asbestos."

Barry furrowed his eyebrows together. "The people side of things is not my specialty, but has any progress been made at that end? Maybe the guy is crazy, and you should be looking for somebody who actually has severe burns. Or, depending on how many arsons there have been, a whole group of people."

"We did have a psychological profiler come down from the FBI. Apparently, they have some agents specifically assigned to work on cases like this. In fact, if I remember correctly, they worked on your mother's murder. The guy asked about you in fact, wanted to see how you were doing."

"I think I know who you're talking about." Barry narrowed his eyes trying to remember. It had been almost a decade and a half since the incident, and while he might remember the murder itself in vivid detail, the investigation afterwards was a blur of people in a completely different way. "Were they the nice tall guy and the scary redhead?" He did remember a man who had believed him and actually encouraged him to hold onto the memory. The man had also reassured him that while the road to finding answers was hard, they were out there. Barry also remembered a super skeptical lady trailing the man around. While he couldn't remember whether the man was from the FBI or even his name, he remembered the man's words giving him a lot of hope.

"I think so," Daniel laughed. He took a deep breath. "The guy said it was probably an escalating pyromaniac. He just wants to see things burn, and unfortunately he's smart enough to choose targets he doesn't have a close connection to, at least from what we can tell. Still, we've detected a small pattern, so we're quicker to respond.

"That, however, is not the most dramatic example. Part way through July, when we were having a wave of hundred degree weather, bodies were suddenly turning up frozen. The victims were mostly criminals, but we suspected something closer to a turf war than a vigilante. There was one attack per criminal group, and we figured that if it was somebody with a vendetta, they would finish off one group before moving onto the next one. In another set of instances, illusions would pop up providing distractions during robberies. Witnesses and cops would say they looked so real, but after the robbery ended or something hit the illusions hard enough such as a bullet they would literally fall apart.

"Unfortunately, most of the time things quiet down before we can get a lock on these guys. There's still a stunt every once and a while, but it's not enough."

"Are you guys worried about a cop tipping these guys off?" Barry asked, before pushing his lips together. Nobody on the force wanted to admit that a fellow cop could do that, but with such coincidences,

Daniel shook his head. "It's a possibility, but it looks unlikely. There doesn't seem to be much of a connection between these events like it would be if there was a cop working for a particular gang. Funnily enough, the only connection seems to be they generally happen portion of the city closest to the broken particle accelerator, the Lower East Side."

"Really?" So his sarcastic comment earlier turned out to be true. A comfortable silence filled the room. "You mentioned that 'the people working on the case'. You're not on the cases yourself?"

"Nah, but I know someone who is. 'Figured you'd want to hear about it when you woke up."

Barry smiled. "Thanks." Another comfortable silence drifted over the pair. "I guess we should fetch Iris now that we're done talking about this."

"And ruin the perfect moment to gossip about her love life?" Daniel West was only half joking. Neither man wanted to gossip in the usual connotation of the word; they were not trying to find a juicy scandal or work against Iris in anyway. However, while Daniel would approve of a relationship between Barry and Iris, he wasn't going to interfere too heavily, and at this point that included notifying Iris of Barry's feelings. Unfortunately, the kid he had already come to see as a son obviously needed a push when it came to relationships. A girl could probably ask him out to his face and he wouldn't believe it.

"She only sees me as a sibling and a friend, and if she is happy elsewhere then so be it." Barry was getting tired of his father figure's nudges, but though they filled his voice with exasperation, they also gave him a little hope. At least if he and Iris ever got together, he wouldn't have to hide from a disapproving father.

"Well, she switched boyfriends twice while you were out, so I wouldn't count on that happiness elsewhere just yet." Daniel was already walking toward the door to fetch Iris. They had had this conversation before. Most had already been said.

Iris returned; the family talked some more. The conversation flowed pleasantly, and eventually Daniel West left to give Barry and Iris some time.

As soon as Daniel left the room, Iris's expression turned deathly serious. The cheek muscles which had been pulling Iris's lips into a wide smile suddenly relaxed, leaving what others would think was a neutral expression. Barry knew better. Iris's eyebrows dropped a full centimeter, and her eyes narrowed. If Iris had been looking at a piece of paper and perhaps tapping a pencil against her lips, Barry would have guessed she was working on a particularly hard homework problem. Unfortunately, she was looking at him. A shiver went down his spine.

She stared at him for a full moment or two. Barry was getting confused about how long a moment was supposed to last anyways, but this dragged on longer than was comfortable. Finally, she spoke, "Barry, tell the truth. Are you really ok?"

Barry blinked several times; he hadn't been expecting that. Typically Iris was very good at telling whether Barry was telling the truth, dodging around something, or actually lying, and he had been telling the truth earlier. There were some things that should have bothered him. The fact that he had been so hungry earlier and managed to eat more than he thought his stomach could hold provided an example. How slow everything seemed to be going came at a close second. But, now that he had food in his stomach, the former didn't seem so bad, and the latter didn't bother him too much so long as he didn't pay attention to it. In fact, if anything he felt physically better than when he went into the coma.

Not knowing what else to do, Barry shrugged. "I'm fine." A pause. Iris didn't look totally convinced. "What makes you think something's wrong?"

"You just…" Iris twirled her hand through the air, fishing the ideas out of her skull. "seem on edge." Barry raised an eyebrow. "You jump too quickly at things. Talk too fast." She titled her head. "I know the speed at which you roll, and this is not it. What's wrong?"

He was going too fast? Barry didn't know how to respond to that, so he didn't, letting it mull over in his head. Everyone else did seem slower than usual. If he hadn't been trying to ignore the change of pace, Barry might have asked Iris the same question in reverse. He had ignored it though, so he hadn't considered what it might look like from the other side.

Before he had a chance to say anything though, Iris started in again. This time she looked down rather than into his eyes. "I should have expected this or something like it. It's not exactly my field of study, but I decided to look into comas while I was out. The readings said things like this could happen. People take a while to recover. Some never completely do.

"But, you've always been there for me. Even if we weren't having our study parties like we did in college, you still provided a shoulder to lean on when I needed it. You'd hear out my problems even if you didn't have the answer, and that was enough." Iris gave a half of a laugh. "I came in to talk to most Fridays, while you were out, but it wasn't the same. I wanted you to wake up, so we could get back to life the way things were. I kept on imagining you'd get up and come visit the campus like nothing happened, even if I knew how unlikely that was."

"Iris," Barry sighed. "I'm sorry for being away for so long."

Iris laughed. This was a hearty laugh that contained a trace of an amused giggle. "You couldn't help getting struck by lightning and covered in chemicals. Even if you were doing something stupid," Iris gave him a look that clearly read 'and you occasionally do,' "The odds of that happening are phenomenal. I mean that was the night you got back and the night of the particle accelerator explosion. The night of improbable events." She continued with a shallower laugh. "You know I thought someone was pulling a prank on me when I found out."

A smile spread on Barry's face involuntarily. It was nice to hear Iris laugh. After enjoying the moment for one of his elongated seconds, he put a serious face back on. "Point is I also want to get back to my life, and Dr. Engels said there's a good chance I'll be able to. However, I probably am a little frazzled."

An amused but also taken back smile crawled onto Iris's lips. "I can hardly imagine. Being in the lab one moment then waking up in a hospital room. I'd freak."

"Oh, that isn't even the half of it," Barry groaned. "I mentioned that I woke up feeling hungry." Iris nodded. "We're still trying to figure out why. At first the doctor thought that something might be wrong with my brain chemistry, but now he thinks that the chemicals messed with my basal metabolic rate. They hadn't noticed earlier because I was already in a coma, so my body had no way of telling the world that it was starving."

Iris's amused expression immediately dropped. "Why didn't you mention it earlier?"

"I did somewhat, but you guys were already freaking out. I didn't want to push it." Barry glared for a moment. However, he wanted to comfort Iris, not chastise her, so he also gave an apologetic shrug. "Physically, I feel fine now, so don't worry too much. I'll keep you posted."

"Yeah, well, if anything comes up, tell the doctor immediately. If you don't I will drag you to him myself. You need to rest."

Barry flinched. That didn't sound too restful to him. But, with the threats out of the way, the conversation could continue in other directions. Barry practiced talking slower, partly to let Iris calm down and partly so other people wouldn't catch onto him operating at the wrong speed. At first, Iris would occasionally give him odd looks after he finished a sentence. Barry guessed that if you sped up somebody trying to speak whale you don't get normal speech. However, by the end of the conversation the awkward glances had stopped, and Iris looked more relaxed: mission success.

Eventually Iris got up to leave, but Barry stopped her before she reached the door. "Thanks for coming. Not just now, but while I was comatose as well. It means a lot."

"The visits helped me as well," Iris shrugged. "Plus, I wasn't the only one who showed up."

"Really?" Barry offered playfully. They both knew that while he wasn't Mr. Popular, he did have one or two good friends in the family and at work.

Iris rolled her eyes. "Oh, please, the rest of the family came by every once and a while too. I heard some of your friends from work occasionally stopped by as well, especially somebody named Julio." Finally, Iris put on a mischievous expression which frightened Barry. "I even saw a pretty blonde from Starling City several times. You should call her up. She seemed worried."

Barry's eyes bulged in surprise. "Really?" He hadn't expected Felicity to stop by. A millisecond passed. "You guys met?"

"Yeah, she seemed nice." Iris shrugged before walking back over to Barry's bed. With this new conversation, it didn't seem like she'd have much of a chance to leave. As with many close friends, there was always something more to say and talk about or at least to share in silence. Barry was glad he could lose his time with Iris like that. Then, Barry noticed that her mischievous smile hadn't gone away, and he didn't know whether to feel comforted or scared. "So, how did you get involved with Oliver Queen's secretary?"

Barry's face burned bright red.

Iris laughed. "Just messing with you. We only met a couple times, but she did seem interested." Iris looked at her watch. "I'll call you up later. I still have some experiments to write up by tomorrow. Call you later? There's so much to talk about.

A/N:

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Though it gets a bit dark at times, it was fun to write and points at some things to come. Plus, that is what happens when you get into a coma for 10 months. Your family has to wait and worry, and overall it's not fun.

In the meantime, I included some cool references as well:

The Glasgow coma scale includes a section on talking.

Science Showcase was the magazine Barry used to cover his head in "The Scientist"

When I started high school my parents decided that if I was going to be into science fiction and fantasy I should read some of the classics, so I read _Dune_ and _Children of Dune_. Barry is obviously past that point. Recently I've gotten into the _Foundation_ series by Isaac Asimov, though Barry hasn't started that. I remember reading something by Ursula L. Guinn, but it was a while ago, so I actually had to look that one up.

Showcase # 4, which was Barry's debut in the comics, shows Barry with an old issue of the Flash (as in Jay Garrick). Thus, the mult-verse was created.

The FBI agents were a total reference to the X-Files, though they might require moving the dates for the X-Files forward a bit to get it too work. Barry, the truth is out there!

And many other references I don't have time to list.


End file.
